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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24505543">What It Wants</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindseayMoor/pseuds/LindseayMoor'>LindseayMoor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:27:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>521</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24505543</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindseayMoor/pseuds/LindseayMoor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s supposed to feel something hot trickling down her gut, something that should scald her out of this filth. </p><p>Because not even one of them is supposed to feel what people like them think they deserve.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Female Character</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What It Wants</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Inhale. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Exhale. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Inhale. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Exhale. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>(The smoke rushes in; when you no longer find the need to keep her in. You pray, as you believe a god exists, for her to be gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You deny the nirvana that your supple flesh hungers for.)</em>
</p><p>“I want you gone in the morning. I don’t want complications.” She inhales some more, looking past the window. Watching the night buzzles amidst the hastiness of the city, staggering drunkards, revving cars, sagging workers. Perched up on the windowsill, body wrapped in a blanket, legs propped up, ankles crossed, hand on the stomach, another hand nursing a carcinogenic stick. A pair of feet trudged the floor gently, trying not to make a sound. The body it brings covered in nothing, the pair of feet is getting close, the hands it brings are slowly reaching out towards the cold—</p><p>“Don’t touch me.” She inhaled many times no one noticed how much came in until she exhales the smoke for the nth time. Not only did she exhaled a smoke but also the vile kept within her throat. The pair of hands didn’t stop. Together with its pair of feet, it still trudged towards her. Felt these two pair of hands slowly skim the left side of her thighs and the hand holding the stick she’s breathing in for the minutes that passed.</p><p>“But I already did.” Those thin delicate soft fingers took a hold of the stick, placed it between those plush velvety pink lips and inhaled the smoke she was breathing before it stood in front of her trying to invite her within its cavern. It didn’t feel like months since they met and she still wants to know what it feels to be enraptured by such sinful creations.</p><p>She averts her eyes as fast as she could back through the glass where she finds purchase of clarity. This is wrong, she thinks. This is all wrong. She feels fingers take a hold of her chin and her sight is back again on the face before her. But now, her eyes fell with another.</p><p>“Don’t tell me not to touch you when we’re already doing it for months.” A velvety voice for a velvety mouth whispered. They both know the voice never goes unheard inside the bedroom. “Why are you telling me this now when you could’ve touched a dick instead?” She still feels those fingers around her chin as she felt the face she could’ve not looked at in the middle of a crowded pub neared her flushed face. She isn’t supposed to feel warmth creeping in. She is never supposed to. Instea-</p><p>
  <em>(She’s supposed to feel something hot trickling down her gut, something that should scald her out of this filth.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because not even one of them is supposed to feel what people like them think they deserve.)</em>
</p><p>“I don’t want to hear those words ever ag—” she feels a pair of lips crashed onto hers, her head tipped back. She could never mean what she said but the way her eyes closed and her arms snaked around a waist mean what her body wants - her.</p>
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